


Meant to be Mine

by fuckinsteverogers



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff, If You Squint - Freeform, Mentions of Prostitution, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, bit of, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 12:33:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17406980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckinsteverogers/pseuds/fuckinsteverogers
Summary: Peter and you met at a brothel in Knowhere and now together, fighting alongside each other, in a crowded spaceship; it’s not common to get some alone time, so you make the most of every opportunity.





	Meant to be Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Request: Could you please do a peter quill smut!!!
> 
> I love Peter. I love Guardians of the Galaxy, though unfortunately, I don’t know as much about them as I wish I did. I’m going to rewatch the movies and do more research so GOTG requests are very welcome. Anyways, I hope you like it anon.

You’d been with the Guardians since Knowhere, since the shit with the Orb, since the beginning of the debacle with the infinity stones and now, travelling together as a family, with Groot once again a little babe, Rocket and Quill their usual shitty selves, Gamora in a worse mood than she had apparently had whilst locked up, and Drax completely clueless as always, then there was you, just a normal human woman who found herself in Knowhere, offering yourself to men to make money, disgusting, useless men until Peter.

When he’d come strolling into the brothel, the grimy place that hardly ever got cleaned other than the bedrooms, your own responsibility was to find a place to wash the semen from the sheets and make the place presentable for the even more disgusting men that would come in when you eventually got the place pristine. 

Then there had been Peter Quill, incredibly gorgeous, something no woman in Knowhere had ever had and you’d thought your stomach had dropped to your knees when he’d stopped talking to Madam long enough to glance at you, his eyes seeing right through you from the moment he met you.

He hadn’t been looking for sex, more on business, but he had seen you, in a beautiful purple robe, the straps hanging from your shoulders exposing your collarbones and the bruises that matched the fabric that other men had left behind.

You hear the story more than a dozen times a day, but as Peter recalls it;

“I couldn’t stand the thought of another man touching something that was clearly meant to be mine.”

And it was history. Your life with the Guardians of the Galaxy was sealed and Peter stopped at nothing to get you to agree to go with him, brought you flowers and delicacies from the Knowhere markets and it’d taken you all of five minutes to give into his handsomeness and kindness. To seal the promise of accompanying him and his friends, you’d wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and pressed your painted lips against his, letting him pull you against his muscular body and that was that you were whisked away onto a spaceship and you’d been fighting alongside them for almost two years.

“Y/N, have you seen my…” Peter yelled from the hallway of the ship, his words slowly trailing off as he opens your shared bedroom door and his eyes find your frame which is stretched out in a downward dog as you do yoga.

“Have I seen what, Peter?” You ask, straightening, frustrated with his interruption to your relaxation session.

“Nothing, babe,” He purrs, gliding across the floor towards you. You look at him momentarily, noticing closely that he is just as sweaty as you and looks almost blissed out.

“No, you…” Your words are halted with his lips pressing against yours, his arms encircling you, pulling you into his chest. 

He hums into your mouth as you tilt your head and embrace the kiss, loving the attention from your busy man. He pulls away, looking down at you, his girl in his arms.

“What would you say to a shower and some filthy shower sex?” Peter grins cheekily, wiggling his eyebrows down at you. You laugh, amused by his callousness. 

“Kind of defeats the point, Quill,” You grin back at him, wrapping your arms around his waist, gliding your hands up his back, feeling the ripples of muscle underneath his dirty shirt. 

“Let’s get filthy and clean all at the same time,” Peter chirps, excitedly bouncing on his heels as he manoeuvres you both towards the bathroom. Slowly, you both shed your clothing, giggling like teenagers who are showering together for the first time.

Peter pulls you underneath the warm water and shoves you against the coolness of the wall, his body covering yours as the water sprays over you both, his mouth coming down to fit against yours and it’s all warmth and love between the two of you.

His hands travel from your waist to your breasts, holding them, kneading them in his hands, pinching at the nipples causing you to moan into his mouth, waves of pleasure travelling to your core. 

“Gotta be quick, babe,” Peter murmurs into your mouth as his hands spray across your back. Nodding, you lift one of your legs to hook around his waist, opening your body to him like you’ve done so many times before. Your love for this man overwhelming as he grins down at you, abandoning the kiss in favour of tilting your chin up and staring into your eyes; the eyes he loves so much.

“Fuck,” You moan as Peter grasps his cock and swipes the tip up your slit, gathering wetness to ensure that the ride is smooth.

Peter hums at your curse, pressing the tip against your entrance. 

“Ready for me, love?” Peter asks, just as he does every time, so utterly respectful of your body and your consent.

“Always, baby,” You reply, grinning up at your man, leaning the back of your head against the wall, watching as he grins and tilts his hips, pushing his length into your warmth.

You moan loudly as his cock makes its entrance into you, slowly inch by inch until he is sheathed fully, leaning down to bury his face in your hair and breath in the saltiness of your skin. 

When he begins thrusting, it’s heaven. The drag of his cock inside you is unreal, your head lols against the wall as Peter begins to thrust hard and groan into your hair, your body on fire with pleasure.

“You feel so good, love, always feel so good,” Peter murmurs, gripping your hips roughly, encouraging you to roll your hips back against his, which you do expertly. “Shit.”

“So good, Peter. So big,” You moan, delirious with how good he feels inside you, something you’d never gotten while working at the brothel, which housed men with unimpressive stamina and equally unimpressive cocks, but Peter… his thickness stretched you so perfectly and his length hit every spot inside you just right, almost like you two were made for each other.

“Yeah, babe? You like it when I fuck you?” Peter asks, always the talker in bed, gone is the playful, witty Quill the moment his cock enters you and he becomes a dirty talking, flushed sex god. 

“Always. Love your cock, baby,” You reply, burying your fingers in his hair as he moves slightly, placing a hand on your lower back to lift your hips slightly and as he thrusts back in, he hits your G-spot that has you seeing stars. “Fuck!” You exclaim, pressing your nails into Peter’s scalp as your orgasm approaches.

“Bet I’m better than any creep that came into that brothel,” Peter continues; talking about him being better than those gross men is a common topic in sex, his ego boosting when you truthfully tell him that he is the best you’ve ever had and gladly the last.

“Fuck, yes. So fucking skilled with your tongue and fingers, your cock is so much bigger, and fuck, you’re a million times hotter,” You reply, indulging him as he tightens his grip on your hips, no doubt going to bruise, and fucks up into you harder.

“Mine,” Peter growls lowly, tilting his head to brush his lips against your earlobe. You’re so far gone that you don’t hear him tell you he is close because you’re on the edge, waiting to jump over the edge and as Peter gives you a particularly hard thrust, the tip of his cock making contact with your g-spot; you’re gone, screaming openly as the pleasure become too much, your body shaking against the shocks of your orgasm. “God.”

“Love you,” You say as Peter slowly removes himself from inside you.

“Love you too,” Peter says, leaning down to give you a kiss, only to be interrupted by a crash somewhere in the bathroom.

“Nice show,” Rocket says from his perch on the toilet seat, his little legs crossed, a grin on his face, clearly happy with his entrance into the moment.

You gape, unable to say anything, but you don’t have to, so embarrassed and appalled, trying to cover yourself up as come drips down your thighs as Peter hurdles over the side of the bathtub and races after Rocket.

“Come back here so I can rip your eyes out, Trash Panda,” Peter yells as he runs naked after Rocket. You dunk yourself under the warm water and shut your eyes as your ears fill with Rocket’s laughter, and you wonder how the hell you haven’t punched one of them yet.


End file.
